


Strength, and A Lack Thereof

by amadeusofnohr



Series: FE Femslash Weeks 2018 [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/F, Slice of Life, Training Session, miriel is a weak nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amadeusofnohr/pseuds/amadeusofnohr
Summary: Sully drags Miriel along to one of her training sessions. It is the single most painful experience of her entire life.(For FE Femslash Week, day 5: strength)





	Strength, and A Lack Thereof

“Up an’ at em!”

An enemy would not be so foolish as to announce their presence. Therefore, the current matter is of less relevance than Miriel’s current occupation. Sleep is of the utmost importance for the functioning of the human body. Yet, the noise outside her tent persists.

“Miriel! You have until the count of ten, then I’m breaking in, like it or not.”

There is not much to break. The flap of the tent lacks any sort of locking mechanism. “Breaking” in will yield no damage to the tent. It is not a compelling threat.

“I warned you.” The pest outside growls.

The sun streaming into her face seems to have an above average magnitude of brightness. She groans, taking the logical course of action and positioning an obstruction between her sensitive eyes and the offending light.

Her pillow is cruelly tugged away.

“I do not appreciate this,” she snaps, squinting at her assailant. She can’t make out much without her spectacles, but the blurry red splotch confirms her suspicions. Sully.

Said woman snorts, holding out something with one hand. Miriel accepts the offering; her glasses. She slides them on. Sully has one hand on her hip, and she looks rather unimpressed. She’s already dressed, albeit not in her usual armor, merely loose shorts and a sleeveless top.

“You’re the one who said you needed to see my workout routine.” Miriel vaguely remembers making that request. She had assumed they would arrange in advance a time-frame during which she could observe, preferably one far later in the day. The sun isn’t even fully risen.

“Would it not be wiser to wait for evening? The present temperature is sure to be unbearable.” Sully is unaffected.

“I do this every morning. No point in rearranging my entire training schedule just for today. Besides, don’t want any _confounding variables_ or _selection bias,_ do we?” In hindsight, it was extremely unwise of her to explain any concepts relating to scientific experimentation to Sully.

“You will have to give me a moment to prepare myself. I failed to foresee this outcome.” Sully waves her on, ignoring the bitterness of her tone. She rolls out of bed and begins to gather her usual robes, but Sully stops her, tugging them from her hands.

“You’ll overheat in those.”

“I wear these every day. I assure you, I am aware of my own limitations.”

“You don’t do any heavy exercise on a daily basis, though.” Miriel freezes.

“I do not. And I am not engaging in anything of the sort today.” Sully smirks.

“Oh, yes you are. Won’t experiencing it for yourself make for better observations?”

“I refuse to make a spectacle of myself. I will only be an embarrassment.” Sully raises an eyebrow.

“Good thing everyone else is still asleep then, huh?” They lock gazes. Miriel will not yield. Sully sighs.

“I suppose it was too much to ask. Poor nerd like you can’t take a challenge.” Miriel yields, snatching her robes from Sully and shoving them back into her chest. She instead opts for breathable pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Despite the promised heat, she will not debase herself further by wearing more revealing clothing. Her lack of muscle mass will be apparent enough as is.

She pushes her way out of the tent, arms crossed.

“How shall we begin?” Sully is inordinately pleased with herself.

“Stretching. And then a little warm-up jog.”

Evidently, a “warm-up” jog entails a mile long run around the outskirts of camp.

“It’ll take ten minutes, max.” Sully promises sweetly.

Twenty minutes later, Miriel is panting heavily, bent over at the waist and gripping her knees tightly with her hands. Sully rubs at her back soothingly, as if the traitor didn’t laugh at her plight mere seconds ago.

“I suppose we can skip the cool-down one at the end of all this.”

“A prudent choice.” She manages between her desperate struggles to obtain oxygen.

Next up is strength training, courtesy of the weights stowed in the supply cart. Mercifully, Sully allows her to make use of the lighter ones rather than match Sully’s admittedly impressive load.

It feels as if her bones have been replaced with a mysterious gelatinous substance when they finally finish. Her motivations for pestering Sully into this seem unsound given the current state of affairs. She had wanted to spend more time with her, but been unwilling to phrase it in that way. She had no desire to appear needy.  

“Now a little light ab work.” Miriel perks up, straightening from her bent over position and sliding her glasses back into place.

“What purpose will that serve? I may require a demonstration.” Sully sees right through her ruse, pushing up her shirt and flexing to reveal the tight lines of her abdominal muscles. Miriel, out of scientific curiosity, stares intently, nodding sagely. Sully allows the reprieve for a scant thirty seconds before lowering herself to the ground.

“No more stalling.” Miriel does _not_ pout.

“I would never do something as asinine as that.”

Sully insists that Miriel complete as many of her drills as possible. Though she lacks the necessary evidence to support her hypothesis, she suspects that many of these “drills” were invented by Sully for the sole purpose of extracting as much pain from the victim as possible.

In the end, all she has left to complete are fifty more sit-ups. Despite Sully’s nonchalance, it is a monumental task. Sully is sprawled out in front of her, her own sit-ups long since finished, an elbow resting on Miriel’s feet to assist her with her burden.

Miriel makes the executive decision to implement a brief break.

“It should not be physically possible to do this.” She complains, staring up at the sky above her. The dawn sky is beginning to recede, leaving only the faintest traces of pink and orange behind. A lone cloud drifts aimlessly by, a puppet to the wind. It is a reflection of how her spirit feels. Without life and at the mercy of her environment.

She closes her eyes and sighs. Just a prolonged blink. One should never slack off during training, no matter how pleasant the radiation of the sunlight feels, permeating through her epidermis and seeping into her tired bones. A nap would be the ideal remedy for her current predicament.

The warmth disappears. She opens her eyes to see Sully leaning over her, looking a bit concerned.

“You know I was jus’ givig you a hard time,” she says. “You don’t actually have to finish.”

Miriel shoots up, ignoring the spike of pain the motion prompts in her abdomen.

“I will not leave this experiment only half complete.” She doesn’t point out that doing the exercises herself won’t actually provide reliable data for how the work-out affects Sully, due to their difference in muscle mass. Sully refrains from mentioning it as well, though she undoubtedly thinks it.

Instead, Sully smiles softly.

“How about some encouragement, then?” She places her hands on Miriel’s feet and leans over her knees. She makes a profoundly over-exaggerated “kissy” face.

“Every time you make it back up here, plant a big one.” A positive stimulant as a reward for completing an undesirable task. Devious. Despite the ridiculous nature of the suggestion, Miriel cannot find it in her to resist.

Her first attempt results in her almost breaking Sully’s nose with her forehead. The second nets the desired result, and Miriel finds herself focusing single-mindedly on her goal. It seems as if no time at all has passed when Sully stops her.

Miriel collapses immediately.

“I am fine.” It is one of the least convincing lies she has ever told. If she was sound of body, she would be recording the results of the experience in a notebook. Waiting too long will deem her recollections unreliable and tainted by the failures of the human mind. That would require her to repeat the experiment to gather more results.

Or, she can abandon the experiment. It was never her primary objection, but Sully doesn’t need to know that.

Sully crouches in front of her.

“C’mon,” she says, gesturing to her back. “I’ll take us to breakfast.”

Miriel climbs aboard, securing her arms around Sully’s neck. She’s a little too tall for the position, and her legs dangle awkwardly even as Sully wraps her hands around her thighs.

Miriel rests her head on Sully’s shoulder. The walk to the mess-sector of camp is relatively short, but perhaps the additional burden will cause the trek to be elongated. There may even be sufficient time for a proper nap.

As they weave their way through camp, they receive a few stares. Miriel has both sound reasoning and physical evidence to prove that she does, in fact, require this piggyback ride. Sully just waves jauntily. At least, until Vaike sees them and gapes, looking aghast.

“Sully! I thought you’d be gentler than that in bed!” Sully splutters, face going red. Miriel draws herself up and summons what energy she can, igniting a small spark and setting Vaike’s hair on fire.

“Think before you speak, you knave! Observe more carefully! From our dress, we were clearly engaged in a training session.” Vaike yelps, clawing futilely at his hair. Negative reinforcement may be the key to convincing him to think before he speaks. Miriel snaps and the flame goes out, his hair only mildly singed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Sully mutters, still embarrassed.

“I am simply defending your honor. It would not do to have false rumors spread about your prowess.” Sully goes red for a second time, barely recovered from the first incident.

Some would say emotions are illogical, but Miriel is human, and humans thrive in their irrationality. With Sully’s arms wrapped around her and her hair tickling Miriel’s nose, and Sully’s face flushed in front of her, all of the evidence points to a single conclusion: it would be illogical to _not_ date her.

Admittedly, the fatigue emanating throughout her entire body suggests that there are more efficient things to do than train while in Sully’s company. But for now, the price was worth the cost. Sacrifices must be made for success. Although next time, Miriel will insist that Sully make the sacrifice. Sully can sacrifice her mobility in exchange for Miriel utilizing her legs as a pillow. She’ll need to recover the energy expended during their work-out.

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally only gonna be like 500 words but uhhhhh my hand slipped


End file.
